The Control Game
by Uphill Both Ways
Summary: What's a game without risk? Izuo Oneshot.


Bitter air scratched down Izaya's throat and burned his lungs as he ran, faster and _faster_ into the dwindling sunset casting warm and fading colors over Ikebukuro. The shadows crept along side him as he dashed from alley to alley, footsteps thundering on the pavement in thrill of the chase. Not far behind him, the rabid growling of an angrier entity stormed on his heels, the city parting around him as he tracked his prey. Izaya smirked, though the expression was forced, just used to further fuel Shizuo as Izaya glanced behind him and flashed his teeth at the blond.

The brunette grimaced, rounding the next street corner into a forlorn cavity in the city. A narrow street between a run down brick establishment and a junkyard surrounded by a chain link fence, where sunlight was chased away and dank dampness dripped from the atmosphere. He savored the next moment, where he panted breathlessly as masochistic pain blossomed in his chest. The thrill of this game was getting old. Try as he might, Izaya couldn't stop himself from getting rather bored recently when flying through Ikebukuro with danger and violence hot on his heels. It was becoming routine, and routine was something Izaya dreaded living by; a spontaneous obsession driven kind of guy.

In another countless moment, Shizuo was in his presence again, rage radiating from his body like a feral disease. Izaya smiled discretely to himself—to hate the game didn't mean to hate the players. And Izaya, despite his words, did not despise Shizuo in the least. Word were just words, after all, and lies were made up of just those. Make no mistake—Izaya hated, no, _abhorred_ the way in which Shizuo behaved; violence and anger before thought or logical decision. Completely opposite from Izaya himself, yet that was what kept the informant's attention. Predictable unpredictability in a way that drove Izaya mad.

Shizuo's tense form advanced on Izaya on the thin strip of concrete and tar, backing the brunette up against the cold metal fence. Already, Izaya was growing tired of this chase. It was almost déjà vu, he knew they'd been in this position before, and it wasn't hard for him to calculate an escape. But that would be ordinary—expected—_unoriginal_. So, Izaya being Izaya, had to figure a way to step above himself in the game. The shrill _clings_ of the chain fence rang out piercingly in the air as Izaya let himself be lifted up and slammed against it by the front of his shirt.

The biting steel nipped at the base of Izaya's neck as he was pressed harder against the fence while Shizuo watched passively from the ground, grumbling some obscenities at the man in the fur lined coat. Shizuo's grip on the informant's shirt tightened, and he lowered the brunette's body against the fence enough to come face to face with him.

"Damn flea, I'm going to wipe that fucking smirk from your face," the low baritone of the blond snapped at Izaya's ears, but still the brunette grinned. "Really, Shizu-chan, that's great and all but it doesn't seem to be working." As if to prove his point, Izaya smirked wider and Shizuo spit out his cigarette, irritably puffing the remaining fumes into Izaya's face.

The brunette forced himself to keep his grin in place even as his lungs screamed at him and he had the desperate urge to cough. He'd never liked the smell or taste of nicotine, always made him gag.

"I'm pretty damn sure you won't be smiling when every bone in your fucking body is _shattered_." Shizuo growled. Izaya knew it then. Knew it the second Shizuo's face came within five centimeters of his own, and the other man's smoky breath drifted around his face again, causing his flaming eyes to water. Knew the next way to shape up their game, keep them on their toes and balancing on that fine, _fine_ wire dangling above the unforgiving streets of the city.

Before Shizuo had the chance to throw away Izaya in disgust, the brunette's lips connected with his. Izaya's arms wrapped possessively and forcibly around the stunned man's shoulders, fingers of his left hand tangling in the blond hair. Shizuo remembered himself, scrunching his nose in distaste as those sinful lips danced over his, going to shove the brunette off before feeling the cool serrated edge of Izaya's flickblade appear at his throat.

"Come on, Shizu-chan, it's no fun if you don't play," Izaya's whisper brushed over Shizuo's jaw as the brunette's lips trailed teasingly along his skin. Shizuo grit his teeth, the informant's blade pressed warningly against the heated flesh of his jugular and the blond forced himself not to try and hurl the smaller man away. As Izaya's mouth covered his again, and a tongue prodded against his tight lips, Shizuo allowed the other man to force his mouth open while the knife slid delicately around his neck.

Izaya grimaced as the bitter tang of nicotine resurfaced on his taste buds when he entered Shizuo's mouth, forcing himself not to back out while the lingering traces ebbed at his tongue. He swirled the muscle around Shizuo's expertly, watching the blond's face intently and enjoying the pained rage bursting beneath the mocha eyes.

Shizuo briefly considered sinking his teeth into the other's tongue, but as satisfying at it might be, living long enough to make the brunette pay dearly later would be worth a lot more. For now he let the blade caress his throat and Izaya's lips to synchronize with his own, closing his eyes to rid his sight of infuriating crimson.

Their kisses were anything but affectionate—a passionate rollercoaster of transmitted heat through the connection of lips was all it was. A mix of saliva and the rusty tang of blood while they attacked each other's mouths with bruising force. Breath was running short; each had their fingers twined roughly into the other's locks, forcing their mouths to stay connected while suffocating each other slowly. Their scalps burned from yanking and their lungs were once again pleading for air, but in a new and intoxicating fashion that brought excitement rushing back into Izaya's chest.

Izaya's feet found purchase against the fence—and he _pushed_, toppling Shizuo over and causing their lips to slip from each other's as they collapsed onto the harsh ground. They both gasped for air, and Izaya made sure to keep his sweaty hold on his flickblade, trailing it once more down Shizuo's fluctuating throat, and straddling the man's hips, making certain he still held control. The brunette licked his lips, removing traces of blood—his or Shizuo's he couldn't tell—and saliva from the abused surface, gazing down at Shizuo's dazed face the whole while.

When the blond reopened his eyes, Izaya took the opportunity to move forward rather than let him recover and figure some way out. The informant latched his teeth onto Shizuo's collarbone, causing the man to groan and clench his teeth, half in disgust and half in surfacing lust. The light had almost completely faded, the last slivers glinting dangerously from Izaya's blade and eyes, keeping Shizuo in place as flashing teeth nipped and sucked down his collarbone.

"The fuck—_nngh_—flea, the _hell_ d' you think you're—_ah_—doin'?" Shizuo hissed through his teeth as Izaya's free hand worked it's way down his vest, unclasping buttons and slipping fabric away from Shizuo's chest. The blond heated in rage and embarrassment as he felt the Cheshire grin carve into his stomach as the brunette's tongue and lips worked down his navel.

"Stepping up the game, Shizu-chan, raising the bet. Isn't that what we're always doing?" the rhetorical question drifted into the moist air, silence of the surrounding city sliced by the far away shrieks of cars on blacktop and Shizuo's own breathing. Shizuo almost laughed to himself; of _course_ this was just another level up to the game for Izaya. Not that Shizuo was going to tolerate it at all—_especially_ when the informant's hands were undoing his belt and the cool blade against his hot skin sent shivers down his spine.

The broken ground beneath Shizuo poked uncomfortably into his back, but the pain was endured as a slight hand wound its way underneath his boxers and around his length. Izaya scrutinized Shizuo; watched his every reaction with the utmost curiosity, drinking in his slight twitches and groans as Izaya exploited the human's weakness of sinful lust. He could tell, even in the shadows that ate their forms, that Shizuo was trying desperately not to react, he didn't _want_ to respond to Izaya's touches—but body over mind and Shizuo's erection grew against the callous friction in Izaya's hand.

Izaya trailed his knife down Shizuo's torso, weaving intricate designs into the skin and dipping with _just_ enough pressure to be felt and add to the _infuriating_ heat pooling at Shizuo's groin. The blond's skin rippled with unease and pleasure as both heat and pain raced down his spine—Izaya, _the bastard_, seemed to know _exactly_ what he was doing, moving his hand in all the right places. The addition of the blade that could plunge into Shizuo's skin at _any given moment_ sent unwanted shocks of thrill rolling through his nerves. Shizuo could only _imagine_ the smirk winding across the flea's face—_imagine_ it and _hate_ it, while he bucked his hips in time to meet Izaya's pumping on his length.

Izaya wasn't afraid to admit to his own humanity, feeling no shame when his _own_ arousal began tightening his jeans and flushing his cheeks as he watched Shizuo with hungry eyes. Only, he could _control_ his urges, and control was something Shizuo _lacked_, something Izaya had been _yearning_ to place over the unruly blond. So Izaya would wait—wait until he had the blond _wanting_, had Shizuo needing, _begging_, _**writhing**_ for more before he gave in.

With that thought, Izaya grinned alongside the crescent moon and painted his fingers along Shizuo's skin, leaving no area undiscovered. With the help of the silver flickblade, Shizuo was rid of his clothing rather quickly and the night air breathed over his body, humiliation and anger coursing through his mind. Izaya chuckled darkly at the glare his blond prey sent at him, leaning over the blond to connect their lips again. Shizuo accepted eagerly, narrowing his eyes into Izaya's and sinking his teeth into the brunette's lower lip, though that only made the masochistic informant sharpen a lustful gaze at Shizuo. Izaya traced his bare fingers over Shizuo's chest, palming the perk nubs roughly and dragging his tongue over Shizuo's cheek. Shizuo grimaced, closing his eye as Izaya's mouth brushed over it, and moved his hands to the brunette's shoulders, digging his nails into the loose black shirt once the jacket was discarded.

With one last nip to the shell of Shizuo's ear, Izaya relocated his knees to in between the blond's thighs and moved his attentions back down to his lower regions. Shizuo flushed, wanting to complain or yell or find _something_ wrong with how Izaya was touching him, but knowing that his anger would only dig a deeper pit. And honestly, pleasure and want were already starting to blur his warring mind—so much that the blond hadn't even noticed that Izaya dropped his blade and was working at Shizuo's body with both deft hands.

Those swift fingers played over sensitive areas that Shizuo hadn't even known existed—running over his hips, then thighs, and the tongue joined as his legs were hoisted onto the man's shoulders and the wet heat trailed down his calf. Shizuo groaned loudly as Izaya's smirking tongue darted around his toes in what he thought would be _disgusting_, but was strangely—_immensely_—satisfying and _erotic_, much like the dangerous informant who was touching him. The blond's grunts and strangled groans molded into softer moans and gasps as Izaya's tongue and hands continued to map out his body, the strange sensations clouding his judgment as well as his mind.

Shizuo's aching arousal desperately needed attention again, weeping with pre-cum while Shizuo bucked to try and draw Izaya's affections to it. Auburn eyes bleeding crimson in the moonlight meshed with hazy and intoxicated honey irises gleaming golden, begging silently for release. The knowing brunette smirked ruthlessly. Shizuo growled; Izaya's fingers teased around his erection once more, nearing it but never fully coming in contact with it, driving the blond to the brink of insanity. Izaya never failed to drive Shizuo insane one way or another.

Shizuo hissed angrily, glaring with rabid need into Izaya's laughing eyes.

"Flea, you fuckin—"

The touches to his body completely stopped.

"Ah-ah, Shizu-chan, that's no way to ask for help," Izaya taunted gingerly, sweeping a drip of cum from Shizuo's erection with his finger, and slipping the digit into his mouth coyly. Shizuo groaned; this damn flea never did anything unless it was _his_ way, and everyone else played along. He hated him.

"_Ungh_—Izaya, could you—" The words tasted bitter and strange on Shizuo's tongue.

"Yes?" The nightmare prompted.

"I need…" Shizuo fumbled for words, hating sounding like the needy idiot he was.

"Mhmm?" Shizuo wanted to slap the smile from Izaya's lips, almost as much as he wanted those lips on him.

"Could y—ah, _screw it_—Izaya, just _fuck me_!" Shizuo snapped, ignoring the rising flush in favor of grinding his hips against Izaya's knees. The brunette's eyes widened for a fraction of a second, he hadn't been expecting quite _that_…but then again that was what made Shizuo so _frustratingly_ unpredictable. The smirk edged its way back into Izaya's face as he quickly undid his belt and slipped his own length out from its confines.

Everything about their relationship was rocky and unstable, ready to crash down on them or anyone else who happened to be standing by. It wasn't any different for sex, though unprepared and thoroughly uncaring, Izaya shoved his erection into Shizuo's entrance without warning. He wasn't about to start caring for Shizuo's well-being _now_.

Shizuo muffled his scream, grinding his teeth together as tears gathered at the corners of his eyes from raw penetration, his fingers bruising Izaya's shoulders without a doubt. Izaya sighed at Shizuo's pain, eager for more satisfying responses as he slid halfway out of Shizuo's heat slowly, feeling something slick caressing his arousal and guessing at blood, and pounding back in. Shizuo jolted, yelping and biting his lip, a salty tear dripping down his cheek while Izaya gasped in sadomasochistic pleasure, licking the teardrop from Shizuo's skin with an ecstatic smile in place.

Izaya began a steady rhythm of thrusting in and out of Shizuo's entrance, knees bent over his shoulders and almost touching Shizuo's own chest as Izaya leaned forward to gain better leverage. As the pain faded away, a tingling hint of pleasure ebbed at Shizuo's mind while he endured. When Izaya slammed into his prostate repeatedly, the initial pain and bitter grudge against the brunette all but disappeared, leaving white flashes of pleasure in their wake. Shizuo gasped involuntarily, and Izaya breathed out a short laugh, before speeding up their pace.

Their animalistic grunts and pants echoed along the narrow street, completely irrelevant to the lives of thousands of other civilians wandering the city, but everything and all to the passionate humans entwined on the hard, unrelenting ground. The sex was rough and fast, blood was the lubricant and both sides were fine with that as long as the pleasure kept building up and their game kept its brilliance.

The stars in both Shizuo and Izaya's minds only dulled, and only slightly even then, after release. Izaya spilled into Shizuo and Shizuo into Izaya's hand. The panting brunette licked his fingers lazily while Shizuo tried to regain a normal breathing pattern. The blond barely registered the informant standing up or fixing his trousers, as Izaya left him naked and breathless on the broken concrete.

The high lasted long after that, and Izaya grinned devilishly to himself as he considered his next move.

"Ah, Shizu~chan, I really hope we can play again soon," he whispered to no one in particular, once more lost in the bustling streets of Ikebukuro.

* * *

**A/N: Izuo for once.**

**Don't hesitate to let me know what you think. C:**


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